


Matrix

by butwordsareallineed



Category: B.A.P
Genre: Gen, Suicidal Ideation, Thoughts of prescription drug abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 21:28:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5221427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butwordsareallineed/pseuds/butwordsareallineed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On B.A.P's first night back in the dorm, Yongguk questions their decision to return to TS Entertainment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Matrix

Yongguk questions whether the decision they made was truly the right one. It eats at him, the first night they move back into their dorm – the “bigger and better” one that has a broken air conditioner the company didn’t bother to fix at any point during the year it’s been since they left it. At least the six boys aren’t all crammed into one tiny bedroom together here. It is “better,” in that way.

Sleep never comes easy to him, but it’s been worse since they filed the lawsuit. Yongguk can’t remember the last time he got more than two hours of sleep in a night. Most nights he doesn’t sleep at all.

He really tries tonight though. The other members have been forced to mature long before they should have, but despite their growing independence and lack of communication with each other during their long legal battle, Yongguk knows they still look to him for guidance and leadership. If he doesn’t at least pretend like everything’s okay, they’ll know it isn’t.

Yongguk sighs and sits up in bed. He’s been following the same train of thought for the past two or three hours. Has it been hours? Time is another thing that slips away from him on nights like this.

He shuffles out of bed, turning on the small lamp on his desk to fill the room with a dim amber glow. It’s not bright enough to rouse the other members, but it makes the room feel less like a pitch-black coffin.

He lets his eyes adjust to the light for a moment before rifling through his desk drawers in search of a small white case. His palm closes around it, the mere feeling of the object in his hand enough to calm him for the moment.

There are two trays to the case, each containing a different type of pill prescribed by a different doctor. The left tray is full of sleeping pills, intended to regulate Yongguk’s disaster of a sleep schedule. He never downed one, though he often entertains the idea of swallowing a large handful and never waking up.

On the right are anti-depressants, intended to keep him from having exactly those kinds of thoughts. These he has tried a few times. The lack of negative emotions they claim to provide come with a loss of creativity and the awful side effect of feeling like his head’s stuffed full of cotton. He’s not a fan.

The options weigh heavy on his mind. Take the blue pills and he can sleep forever, never having to deal with the pressure of making choices that affect not only his future but the futures of five other men. He’ll never have to deal with anything at all except silence, blissful silence. Or he can take the red pills and be exactly what the company wants him to be, faking a smile every day and pretending that the way they treated him and his dongsaengs doesn’t make him wish he didn’t have to be alive anymore. He’ll forfeit his creativity, singing and dancing along to whatever they think is a good idea, their perfect puppet on a stage.

A gentle knock sounds at his door. Yongguk drops the container of pills back into his desk drawer.

“Hyung?” The voice is deeper and richer than he remembers, but full of the same gentle sweetness that is unmistakably Junhong’s. “Are you awake?”

Yongguk doesn’t say anything, but even after a year apart they still know each other better than their actual families. The door’s quiet creaking lets Yongguk know Junhong is entering his room without permission, something which might have earned him a scolding back in their debut days when Junhong was still a child. He’s older now, yes, but it’s mainly the hardships they faced together that put them on more equal footing.

Though he doesn’t react to Junhong’s presence, he knows the younger won’t take it as a sign of discouragement. “I couldn’t sleep, so I made tea. I saw your light was on so I thought you might like some too.”

Yongguk hears the gentle clink of a teacup being set on his bedside table. He still hasn’t moved, afraid something in him will give away to Junhong that he’s not okay. He’s not the wise leader they all think he is and he’s scared – terrified that he led the people he cares most about to be sold like products once again.

For a few moments, the two boys stay together in silence.  
  
“Hyung? I’m gonna go now. Enjoy the tea if you drink it.” He hears the soft thud of bare feet across the carpet that indicates Junhong’s walking away.  
  
“Wait.”  
  
Yongguk turns, looking at Junhong across the room. It’s almost difficult to believe he’s the same boy Yongguk once stood onstage with as the duo BANG&ZELO. Gone is the bleach blond or color-streaked hair the stylists kept for years despite Junhong’s vocal desires to return to his natural color. He’s also grown several centimeters just within the past year – he has to duck his head to keep from hitting the doorframe every time he enters or leaves a room now. But his eyes are the same – a little colder, less trusting, sure, but unmistakably Junhong’s.  
  
“What is it, hyung?”  
  
Yongguk slowly crosses the room, pulling the younger boy into a hug once he reaches him. Junhong remains still, baffled, Yongguk’s sure, by the uncharacteristic display of emotion from his leader.  
  
He’s made his choice. The pills will stay in his desk drawer, unused and unneeded. His dongsaengs are counting on him. His greatest failure is letting them down; he’s not going to let that happen again for the sake of swallowing a quick fix to his problems. Whatever the future holds, the six of them are going to face it together.  
  
Yongguk pulls away, giving the younger boy a warm smile. “I have an idea for the album title. What do you think about _Matrix_?”


End file.
